


The Arrest

by HansJoachimMarseille



Category: reprinted
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:08:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23944453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HansJoachimMarseille/pseuds/HansJoachimMarseille
Summary: This would be one of the best fictions over homosexuality and I am fond of sharing with all those who deserve to be touched by this loving story.And I need to mention that it is reprinted from an oversea wedsite.Really important!____________________________________________________________________________________________________________Kissing with someone with braces is no problem, no problem at all.
Relationships: Lover - Relationship





	The Arrest

*** As told by Clark Kent

“Sir, you were driving 31 miles an hour in a 20 mile an hour zone,” came the gruff announcement from Officer Krupke.

“I wasn’t,” said I.

“You were,” said he.

“I mean I didn’t realize I was. I’m not denying it. Are you going to arrest me and take me to jail?” I could not help but smile at this beautiful man standing next to my car door.

“Only if you resist.”

“Well, I’ll have to think about that.” If I got myself arrested, I wonder if he would do a cavity search. Probably not. But there’s no law against asking. I’d love to see the expression on his face if I did ask. On second thought, maybe not.

“May I see your driver’s license and registration, please,” he was almost smiling.

“Ok, sock it to me, officer.” I handed him the documents he requested.

I noticed he was writing the ticket with his left hand. “You’re left-handed.”

“That is correct, sir.” I also noticed he was not wearing a wedding ring. “Are you married, officer?”

“That is none of your business, sir.” He was having a tough time not smiling.

“Sorry.” I looked away, thought about it, then looked back at Officer Krupke, “It’s just that I’m gay, and I’m looking for a husband.” He stopped smiling.

“I could arrest you for soliciting.” He still was not smiling.

“I wasn’t soliciting. I was just stating a fact. I’m lonely and you’re a very attractive man.” I looked him in the eye, “I’m sure no one has ever told you that before.” No response.

He finished writing the citation, tore it from the pad and handed it to me. “Thank you for your cooperation. Your options in dealing with this citation are written on the back. Have a good day.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome. So long.” I said it as sadly as I could. I wondered if he was any good at mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I could use a couple of those right now. I rolled up the window and drove away, watching him in the rearview mirror. He didn’t even glance in my direction. Well, so what if I made a fool of myself. I was glad I asked.

Max, my four-year-old pup, was curled up next to me while we watched some mind-numbing stupid rerun on the boob tube when the phone rang. Max’s ears perked up at the sound. It was 8:20. I wondered who would be calling me at this time of night.

“Hi, this is Clark.” There was no response. “Hello?”

“No, I’m not married,” came a soft reply.

“You’re what? Oh my God, it’s you.” I recognized the voice. “Officer . . . I don’t know your name.”

“Rodriguez. Kyle Rodriguez.”

“That’s odd, you didn’t look latin. I would have guessed Irish or Scottish.”

“Scottish. I’m adopted.”

“Oh.” Suddenly I was tongue-tied and did not know what to say next. Please say something, Kyle.

“I was wondering. . .” he began.

“Coffee?” I found a word.

“Yes, coffee,” he replied.

“You name it and I’ll be there.” I began to breathe again.

“There’s a small restaurant on Broadway at Fourth. Do you know it?”

“No, but I’ll find it. Does it have a name?”

“Michael’s Coffee Shop.”

“When?” I hated myself for being so eager.

“How about this evening?”

“I’ll be there in half an hour. And I promise I won’t speed.”

I heard a muffled laugh. “Half an hour. See you then.”

“Ok, thanks, bye.” I dashed into the bedroom to change and was out the door in less than 10 minutes. This was too good to be true. My only hope was that it wasn’t going to be too good to be true.

Michael’s Coffee Shop was one of those modern places built in the 50’s with glass windows everywhere, probably a Tasty Freeze way back when. It wasn’t crowded and I didn’t see Kyle.

I sauntered in and took a seat facing the entrance with a street view to my right. I’d see him approaching from any direction, “Hi Clark.” except the rear. His voice came from behind me. “I’m glad you could make it.” He slid into the seat across from me and smiled his beautiful smile.

“Where did you come from?” I asked as I looked behind me.

“The restroom.” He kept smiling.

“There’s an entrance to the men’s room?” I knew there wasn’t. I just wanted to play.

He laughed, “No, I got here early and needed to use the head.” He clasped his hands together and put them down on the table in front of him.

He had braces on his teeth. I hadn’t noticed them when he wrote the speeding ticket. I had the insane thought of how would you kiss someone with braces. What if you both wore braces and got stuck together. How embarrassing would that be.

Dressed in civilian clothes, I was pleased to see what he looked like without the uniform and that cap he was wearing earlier. He had beautiful crew-cut chestnut hair, a high forehead over almost bushy eyebrows, accenting hazel-green eyes which sparkled in the restaurant lighting. He was clean shaven, but there was late day stubble beginning to show which was very becoming, and a prominent dimpled chin beneath sensitive lips. “We’re you surprised when I called?” now he was really smiling.

“I was floored. I didn’t think you even noticed my ranting about looking for a husband. How did you find my number?”

“I have ways,” he paused and kept smiling, “You’re in the phone book. Is Clark Kent your real name?”

“Yes, I’m afraid it is. Sometimes I wish it wasn’t.”

The waitress arrived and filled two cups with coffee. We smiled at her, she returned our smile and stood there for a few seconds – all of us smiling at one another. She reluctantly turned and walked away, but I knew she was watching us.

“I suppose I should apologize for being so forward this afternoon.”

“No need. If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t.” Here I was, sitting in front of this handsome man, with braces on his teeth, and I still had trouble making conversation. So I said something incredibly stupid. “I never do anything on my first date.” I held my breath, hoping he would not get up and walk out.

He looked deadpan at me for a few seconds and then began laughing. “Neither do I,” came his cheerful reply.

He wasn’t a bodybuilder, but I could tell from the way his shirt strained at the button holes of his shirt he exercised regularly. I didn’t and decided this was not going to work. I was just an average Joe. Clark Kent had no intentions of getting undressed in front of this well-developed man, at least not with the lights on.

“We’re you serious about looking for a husband?” His intense facial expression told me he wasn’t kidding.

“I. . . I. . .” stuttered out of my mouth.

“Were you kidding?” his cheerful expression faded.

“No, I wasn’t kidding, I’m just so surprised to be sitting here with you. I’m at a loss for words.” I was pretty sure I was blushing. My face was burning.

“Good, because I’m looking also.” He relaxed and smiled.

“Gosh, I feel like I should be handing you my resume or something. I’m not sure what we should do next. Quite frankly, I’ve never done this before.”

“Well, you certainly aren’t shy.” He was examining me very closely.  
“Is that good or bad?”

“That’s good.” Suddenly his expression changed. “Look at me, and keep looking. Don’t make any movements. The cashier is being robbed.”

I could see something was going on in my peripheral vision.

Kyle slowly pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed a button. He turned and looked out the window while watching the two men at the register in the reflection. He said something into the phone. The only word I understood was backup. He continued watching the reflection in the window. I don’t think I could have moved even if I wanted to.

He turned slowly in my direction. “They have guns. I’m going to let them leave. When I get up, you get under the table and stay there.”

My voice was gone. I nodded obediently. I didn’t want these two guys to see me looking at them as they left, so I stared into my coffee cup. I heard the door open. Kyle slipped to the floor and moved toward the entrance like a panther. It was amazing to watch him. One minute he was just this guy sitting in front of me, smiling, and the next minute he was this police officer doing his job. I slipped under the table as instructed.

Within seconds, I heard tires screeching. Kyle exited the restaurant. Someone shouted POLICE. I froze when I heard the gunfire. I don’t know how many shots were fired, it happened so fast. Then there was silence. I peeked out from under the table and saw someone slumped against the front door. Oh my God, it was Kyle.

Without thinking, I dashed to the front door and pulled it open. Kyle fell backward into the coffee shop. I could see he was shot in the chest, probably through the lung. I looked up at the terrified waitress standing by the register. “TIN FOIL, I NEED TIN FOIL NOW.” She turned and ran into the kitchen as I knelt next to Kyle.

“Kyle, can you hear me?” His eyes flickered open. I’m not sure he recognized me. He looked like he was going into shock. I raised my voice, “Kyle, can you hear me?” His head nodded slightly. “You’ve been shot in the chest. Now listen to me.”

He whispered, “I don’t think I’ll make it.” He closed his eyes.

I yelled even louder, “You better make it god dammit, or I’ll kick the living crap out of you.” I think he recognized me – he smiled and nodded his head.

The waitress ran up to me with a roll of tin foil. “Tear off a piece and fold it into a twelve-inch square.”

My hands were covered with Kyle’s blood as I pressed the foil on his chest. “Kyle, when I tell you, breathe in and hold it. Breathe out when I tell you. Do you understand?” He nodded.

I placed the foil patch over the wound. “OK breathe in and hold it.” I took the patch off, “OK, breathe out.”

I repeated the procedure, again and again, watching the color of his skin, his pulse was wavering. It took forever before the paramedics arrived. Finally, I heard them running toward me. I literally collapsed on the ground when they took over. They had all the equipment I was lacking. Now Kyle had a chance.

Two police officers helped me up. “Are you sure you’re not injured?” one of them asked.

“No, this is Kyle’s blood. I need to get to the restroom.”

The officers followed me, “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks for your help. Did you get those guys?”

“Oh yeah, we got ‘em alright. Are you a friend of Officer Rodriguez?”

“Not really. We just met this evening. Do you know where they took him?”

“Saint Francis Memorial.”

“That’s on Hyde isn’t it?”

“Yes, did you want us to take you there?”

“No, there’s nothing else I can do. Hopefully, he’s headed for surgery. That wound was pretty bad. I hope he makes it.

“Where did you learn that tin foil thing you were doing?”

“I was a combat medic – Afghanistan. We didn’t have tin foil but a similar material.”

“Jesus, does Kyle know that?”

“No, he doesn’t really know anything about me.” I wondered if he ever would. “Are you guys going to the hospital?”

“Yes, right now.”

“Do you think you could call me and let me know how he is? I’d appreciate it.”

“You bet.” One of the officers wrote my phone number on his pad. “You take care. We’ll talk to you later.”

“Thanks.” The two officers left me standing alone in the men’s room.

That was a hell of a first date. I wondered if I would ever see Officer Rodriguez again.

The waitress who assisted me began to cry when I went to pay for the coffee. “I was so scared,” she whispered through her tears.

“I was too,” I assured her with a smile. “Now all we can do is pray that the officer will survive.” I thanked her for her assistance, paid for the coffee, and drove home. Max met me at the door. He knew something had happened and would not leave my side. The smell of Kyle’s blood got his attention. He kept looking at me, probably wondering if it was mine.

It was shortly after noon, five days later, when the phone rang. “Hi, this is Clark.”

“This is Officer Foster. I met you . . .”

“Yes, I remember. How is Kyle doing?”

“He survived surgery. They just released him from intensive care.”

“Well, that’s a good sign.”

“When he came to, he asked for Clark Kent. I thought he was kidding at first until I realized it was you he was asking for. I think he’d like to see you, and thank you. Can you drop by the hospital?”

“Yes, I can. I’ll be right over. Thanks.”

I checked in at the reception desk and was not surprised I had to show my ID. There were police officers everywhere who looked at me suspiciously as I made my way to Kyle’s room. I just smiled and kept going.

I stood in the doorway of his room not knowing if I should enter or not. There were two women and a man sitting around his bed. The older women noticed me, got up and ran over to me. “Are you Clark Kent?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Oh, my dear boy,” She held my face with her hands and kissed both of my cheeks, “You saved my boy’s life. How can we ever thank you?”

I wasn’t quite sure what to say. The younger woman and the man joined us. “This is my husband, Jose, and my daughter, Brenda.”

Kyle’s dad shook my hand so hard I thought my arm would come off. His sister flung her arms around me and kissed my cheek.

“How is Kyle?” I could hardly see him from where I was standing.

“He’s been asking for you. Why don’t you sit next to him. We’re going to the cafeteria. We’ll be back shortly.” They smiled and filed out of the room.

I moved slowly to the bedside, not knowing what to expect. Kyle heard me sit down and turned his head, “Hi.” He smiled drowsily.

“Hi, yourself.” I was so glad to see him. His cheeks were rosy so I knew he would survive.

“Some first date, eh?” He reached out.

I took his hand and held it. “Yeah, I thought the same thing. When I saw you sprawled out on the floor of the restaurant, with a hole in your chest, I wondered if there would be a second date.”

“You saved my life.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. I felt myself slipping away. If you hadn’t yelled at me and threatened to kick the crap out of me, I would have gone.”

I grimaced, “You would remember that.”

“I’ll never forget it. If it hadn’t been for you, I would have been gone by the time the paramedics got there. I owe you big time.”“No, Kyle, you don’t owe me anything outside of getting well so you can continue to go after the bad guys, and write speeding tickets for lonely guys like me.” He gripped my hand so hard it hurt. I wanted his arms around me, holding me that tight.

“Did they tell you about the injury?”

“No, they didn’t. But from what I saw, I was pretty sure it went through your left lung and possibly your heart.”

“It did go through my heart. The heart sealed itself as soon as the bullet passed through. Funny thing about hearts.”

“Mine would have been broken if you died.” I gripped his hand tight. “You owe me alright. I had to pay for your coffee.”

“Oh Jeez, I forgot about that. When I’m able, let’s go back to Michael’s and sit at the same table. I’ll buy the coffee and we can pick up where we left off. Deal?”

“Deal. It won’t be soon enough.”

“I’m going to be laid up for some time. There is so much more I want to know about you.”

“I have a dog named Max. He knows what your blood smells like. Do you like dogs?”

“Humm.” His eyes were fluttering.

“You’re tired. I’m going to leave now.”

“No, wait.” He held on to my hand. I had not realized how strong he was. “Still interested in finding that husband?”

I smiled, “I may have found him.” He smiled as his eyes fluttered shut. His grip on my hand relaxed as he fell asleep.

I met his family as they were returning to his room. They asked a lot of personal questions about my relationship with their son, and brother. Since I had only met him that one evening I had little to offer. I wasn’t sure if they knew he was gay or not. It didn’t matter since I wasn’t sure he and I would ever have any kind of a relationship. We had only spent minutes together before the robbery. I literally knew nothing about him. He would need the support of his family rather than any attention from me during his recovery, which might take several months – a guess on my part since I didn’t have any of the details of the injury or the surgical procedure they performed to save him. I chatted for a few minutes with these loving people before I returned home.

My loneliness seemed more acute, having come so close to a possible partner, only to have him snatched away by circumstances beyond my control. Besides, I don’t think I could have gotten past those braces. How do you suck face with someone who has braces? I decided life sucks, and I tried to forget Officer Krupke.

It must have been two weeks, possibly more, when my doorbell rang. Max sprang to the front door ahead of me, barking and wagging his tail furiously. It was Kyle’s sister whose name I had conveniently forgotten, “Hi, what a surprise . . . .”

“Brenda.” Her smile acknowledged my memory loss. “Hi, Clark. I should have called first, sorry. Is this convenient?”

“Yes, of course. Please, come in. The kettle is on for tea – care for some?”

“Sure.”

“How’s Kyle?”

“Oh, he’s fine.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem.”

“Sure there is. Why else would you be here?”

“Um, I see,” she paused a few seconds. “He’s not responding the way he should. He’s a strong man and should have been further along in recovering.”

“And you think I can help.”

“Well, yes. I’m hoping you will help.”

“Do you have anything against the English language?”

“No.”

“Well then, speak it plain.”

She was silent as she gathered her thoughts. Finally, she looked up at me, “My parents don’t have a clue what’s going on. I do. Kyle and I are very close.”

“Is there more?” I asked.

“He’s depressed, and you’re all he can talk about.”

“Really?” I was somewhat surprised.

“Yes, really. Any chance you can spend some time with him until he’s on his own again?

“Why doesn’t he ask me himself? He knows my phone number.”

“He’s afraid he would be imposing on you.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“No, but I know him well enough.”

“I don’t know, Brenda. I’d like to help. I’m not sure it’s a good idea. He must have friends who can help. How about his fellow officers? They’re a tight group.”

“They have been helping. At least right after the shooting. They’re releasing him from hospital tomorrow.”

“Where’s he going?”

“My parents for the time being. Look, this probably is an imposition. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s not. I’m glad you came over. I’ll think about it.”

“He’s never had anyone close. At least he never said anything to me. You probably won’t believe this, but he’s shy.”

“No he’s not,” was my quick retort.

“Yes he is.” Brenda looked at me questioningly.

“Did he tell you how we met?”

“Not exactly. All I know is that something took place that got his attention.”

I laughed when I thought of what I said while he wrote that citation. “Did he tell you that he caught me speeding and gave me a ticket?”

“No, he didn’t. When did that happen?”

“The day of the robbery.” I hesitated, then decided to tell her. “Since you’re so close with Kyle, while he was writing the citation I asked him if he was married – he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.”

“You didn’t.” Brenda was surprised.

“Oh yes I did. Then I told him I thought he was good looking, I was lonely, and looking for a husband.”

“Oh my God. Then what happened?” Brenda leaned forward.

“He said he could arrest me for soliciting. I apologized and thought that was the end of it – until he called me at home later that evening.” Brenda sat there staring at me, waiting for more. “You’ve probably guessed, I’m not shy.”  
Brenda smiled her acknowledgment. Then, “He actually called you?”

“I swear to God. I almost fell over when I recognized his voice.”

“And?” she could hardly wait for more.

“We agreed to meet for coffee at Michael’s. We did. He mentioned that he was also looking for a husband and then he . . .”

“Wait a minute,” she interrupted, “What did he say?”

“He told me he was also looking for a husband.” I paused while Brenda processed that information. “Then he spotted the robbery in progress. And that was the end of our first date – if you can even call it that.”

Brenda’s jaw dropped open as she stared at me. “He actually said that to you?”

“Yes. Sounds like he didn’t mention it to you.”

“So, that’s the reason.”

I could tell she was putting some guesses and ideas together. Then she stared at me, “Were you serious about finding a partner?”

“Yes, I was.”

“So what’s stopping you from seeing him?”

“I don’t know. Circumstances I suppose.”

“Do you have something against the English language?” Brenda was delighted to shoot that back at me.

“No.”

“Well, then speak it plainly.”

I hadn’t come face to face with it before, but there it was, “I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Of not having it work out, and finding myself alone again.”

“That’s the most incredible reason for sidestepping a perfectly good relationship I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“But I . . .”

She interrupted again, “But nothing. You’re coming to dinner at my parent’s home next Sunday. And you better be there or I’ll come looking for you.”

“Hey, I dislike being hustled.” I gritted my teeth to keep from smiling.

“Dislike it if you must, just be there. Dinner is at 6 sharp.”

“What about your parents. I might let the cat out of the bag with my big mouth.”

“If they haven’t already figured it out, it’s about time they did. Thank you for tea. I’ll leave you to your own devices for the time being. Here’s the address. I’ll see you Sunday. Bring wine if you feel obligated, but it’s not necessary.”

Max and I escorted Brenda to the front door. “Are you always this bossy?”

“When it comes to Kyle, you bet I am.” She kissed my cheek, hugged me, and disappeared down the stairs.

I figured I had better attend dinner, fearing she might make good her threat.

It was 15 minutes to six when I parked in front of the Rodriguez home. There were three cars in the driveway, and two squad cars parked across the street. I got out of the car and felt like I was about to walk into the lion’s den, possibly the jaws of the lion.

The front door was ajar, I walked in without knocking or ringing the doorbell. The aroma of good food cooking was intoxicating, accented by animated conversation and laughter coming from the living room. I decided I was not one of the boys and turned around. I left the wine and flowers on the hall table and moved quietly toward the front door. Perhaps no one would notice.

“And where do you think you’re going?” It was Brenda.

I stopped and turned around. “Look, you folks are having such a good time. I’m not going to fit in.”

She gently took my hand and pulled me toward the archway of the living room. “You really are a pushy broad.”

“I know,” she smiled and put her arm through mine as we came into view of the other guests. There was a split second of silent recognition, then all hell broke loose. All I remember hearing was, ‘The hero has arrived.’ I spotted Kyle in his wheelchair. He had the biggest grin in the room. I was glad Brenda had stopped me from leaving.

My arrival seemed to be the signal for the other visitors to make their departure. Soon, there were just the five of us. I found myself admiring this family of four during dinner. They were so in tune with one another. They laughed, argued, and disagreed with one another while being bound together in love, understanding, and a mutual respect for each other. The prospect of a relationship with Kyle took on new meaning as did the possibility of being part of this loving family.

I kept a close watch on my big mouth that evening so the cat did not escape the proverbial bag. I suspect that if Kyle’s parents did not know of his orientation, and found out – I doubt they would have cared.

I spent a good deal of my free time with Kyle as his recovery progressed over the next several months. The day came when he was well enough to move back into his apartment. Then we really had a chance to get to know one another.

And finally, the day came when he was able to resume his duties as a police officer. It seemed as if I was relegated to the background of his life, I saw less of him. I felt left out, no longer necessary, no longer needed. Perhaps he had gotten to know me too well. I should have said something, but I didn’t.

Two weeks went by without hearing from Kyle. No one was at fault. It was just one of those things. He resumed his life and probably decided he didn’t need a husband after all. We never did go back to Michael’s Coffee Shop and take up where we left off. I would have liked that.

I didn’t think anything about the flashing blue lights coming up behind me. It was evening rush hour and drizzling rain. The traffic was slow and heavy. But I found it curious that those lights followed me when I turned the corner onto Geary Boulevard. They got closer. I wasn’t speeding, so why was I being tailed? I heard the bleep bleep coming from the squad car. I obediently pulled over and stopped. The blue lights were still whirling, along with the flashing head lights when I saw someone get out of the squad car and walk in my direction. This better be good, I thought to myself.

“Sir, please step out of your vehicle.”

“Kyle?” I looked around and saw him standing tall in the drizzling rain, feet apart, no hat, and those braces glittering at me. He had a small black box cupped in his left hand.

*** Epilogue

As you can imagine, Kyle got down on one knee in a puddle of water and proposed marriage, offering me a ring of engagement. I accepted. I don’t think he noticed the tears running down my rain-soaked face. The entire scene could not have taken more than five minutes, but in those five minutes, folks in the slow moving traffic on Geary Boulevard took photos of Kyle and me which ended up splashed across the front page of the San Francisco Examiner the next morning, with the headline: COP PROPOSES IN HEAVY TRAFFIC. How the paper got our names remains a mystery, but there they were in black and white.

My phone began ringing at 5:30 the next morning when the morning edition hit the streets. I was frantic, not knowing what the repercussions would be for Kyle’s position on the police force. I tried calling him but kept getting his message prompt. My concerns were needless.

The gay community in San Francisco came out in force, supporting us in every way possible. They made headlines with their support. One group was handing out flowers to every policeman they could find. It was a big positive boost for the Police Department. The evening news was filled with what I thought was a very private affair, albeit on a busy street, but nevertheless.

Kyle was decorated for bravery for his part during the robbery shootout. In his acceptance speech, he did not hesitate to mention Clark Kent, the man who saved his life. I was obligated to stand when he pointed his finger at me.

“Yes, his name really is Clark Kent, and he is my hero. I wouldn’t be standing here today if it weren’t for him. When I began to slip away he screamed at me, threatening to kick the livin’ crap out of me if I didn’t stay with him.” When the laughter subsided, he added, “I stayed with him and decided I never wanted to leave him, so I asked him to marry me.” The audience was silent.

Finally, someone piped up, “Did he accept?”

I took my cue and stood up, “Yes, I did.”

When the applause died down, Kyle added, “You’re all invited to Grace Cathedral a week from next Saturday for the ceremony.” The audience could not restrain themselves, they rushed forward and mobbed both of us with congratulations and best wishes. That little episode was on the news that evening. My phone never stopped ringing.

I laugh when I think of that traffic stop so long ago on Route 1 into San Francisco when that beautiful police officer stood next to my car door and arrested me – in more ways than one.

For what it’s worth, kissing someone with braces is no problem, no problem at all.

THE END.


End file.
